Never Alone
by Jabbs
Summary: Post Ep fic for Headless Witch Bone is afraid of being alone, and, in a rather surprising move on her part, admits as much to Booth. Boot decides to keep that from happenning at least for one night.
1. Every Night

Booth's POV

I thought, or, rather, hoped that I had exaggerated in memory this feeling of completeness. The truth is, however, memory had dulled this warmth not enhanced it. Nothing compares with holding Temperance Brennan; I never even felt this way with Rebecca. That's why I didn't let myself tough Bones when she and Hodgins escaped that accursed SUV.

This time, however, it isn't to gratify my own feelings but to protect hers. So, I tell myself and her that it is a "guy hug" and let my heart speak to her through my arms confident she won't recognize my meaning. I'm not sure Dr. Brennan even believes in love, and her current doubt as to her ability to read feelings should help me keep mine hidden.

When she accepted my comfort and stepped into my embrace, I felt this smile spread on my face. Yes, I was afraid, she would step back and see it, but I couldn't extinguish it. Having my arms around he is too perfect a sensation to be checked. I felt a hitch in the rhythm of her breathing- a small sob. My heart stopped. My smile vanished.

"Seeley?" Tempe whispered.

"Yeah?" I was acutely aware of her use of my first name.

I'm afraid…I'm afraid of being alone." I pulled back and looked at her, wiping a tear away with the pad of my thumb.

"You're not alone, Temperance." I promised. "I'm right here with you."

"You're not with me when I wake up at 2:30 in the morning terrified that I'll make some atrocious error and end up with someone like Will."

"Really?" I croaked out. She nodded, new tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill even though they wouldn't be able to wash away her pain or sadness.

I couldn't believe that this beautiful, strong, intelligent woman could be so scared of herself- and I couldn't believe I'd never known. How many times had she needed comfort while I'd been sleeping unawares? I was disgusted with myself.

"I will be tonight." I resolved to her. "You are the most intelligent, strong, and competent women I know, and I won't let you convince yourself otherwise. Tonight, when you're afraid, I'll be right nest to you."

Tempe's eyes were wide.

"Booth, I…" Maybe she was going to refuse, to close me down, or maybe she was going to let me care for her. I couldn't tell. In that instant, my fear clouded my ability to read her. So, in case she was going to reject my offer, I didn't let her finish.

"I'm your partner. Let me be there for you."

Brennan's POV

I should have said no, but I couldn't find my voice. And so, in a very uncharacteristic move on my part, I let Booth guide me down to his SUV. His hand on the small of my back both warmed me and sapped both my will and strength to argue.

_Why had I told him that, anyway? Yes it's true, but that doesn't mean I need to share that information_. It must have been brought about by the stress and fear by once more completely failing to recognize the truth about people. But I've wanted to tell Booth for weeks. What if I've come to rely on him too much?

Since the earliest moments of our partnership, Booth has been able to evoke feelings in me in truly prodigious proportions, which no one else has been able to approach. That scares me. This is why I've distanced myself from my emotions for him as much as possible .I was thrilled when I realized that Booth is sleeping with Cam, because maybe the pin will help me separate myself from him, dim these feelings.

And then he goes and makes this glorious gesture, and I sense my grip on detachment slip. I'm sitting in the passenger seat of his SUV, where I am very accustomed to sit. I think back to his words the last time we were in this position. _Does he really think of me as one of the guys? Does he know that when Will kissed me, I imagined it was Booth's lips against mine and I smiled? _

My apartment approached, and I roused myself from my bittersweet reverie. Once again I asked myself shy I had failed to argue him out of this and decide to make the most of it.

I was gratified to note the lack of trembling in my hands as I unlocked the door. Booth held open the door and allowed the door. Booth held open the door and allowed me to precede him into my home.

"Can I offer you a drink, Booth?" I queried. He had sat himself onto my couch."Whatever you're having." He responded, rubbing his hands on his pants. Maybe he was as nervous as I. I handed him a pale blue stem-less wine glass containing a clear almost yellow-ish Riesling. When I sat next to him, our thighs almost touched and I could feel the heat which radiated from him. Booth sipped the wine appreciatively.

"Nice choice," he murmured. I smiled in response.

Silence ensued. And it wasn't the comfortable silence that typically subsists between us. I cleared my throat.

"I saw Angela and Hodgins leaving work together tonight." I informed him. Booth stared at me as though I were some terrifyingly fascinating new strain of influenza. I continued doggedly. "Apparently watching all that video footage scared her so much she's afraid of sleeping alone in her apartment."

Booth finally managed to put voice to his thoughts.

"I know something's not right when _you_ are gossiping about your coworkers." He remarked.

"I wasn't gossiping." I declared. "I was just informing you how irrational this case made everyone." Booth just smirked. I gave up.

"I'm sorry," I told him. "It's just that there seems to be a rhinoceros in the room."

For a moment, Booth looked confused, than he grinned.

"Elephant, Bones. There's an elephant in the room."

"Oh." Once again my infamous people skills had embarrassed me. Will's comment arose to the forefront of my consciousness, and I found myself blurting out.

"He said my social skills were fine." I informed my partner. "Will did." I explained realizing Booth couldn't know who I meant by "he." Booth nodded thoughtfully, watching my face.

"Well, than, he was right about one thing."

"He killed his brother."

"Even murderers are right sometimes, Bones." He said softly. "No one who knows you can find them lacking."

"Yet you often have to keep me from saying the wrong thing." My voice and face betrayed my confusion and skepticism.

"That's because they don't know you, Bones. Not because there's anything there's anything wrong with you."

For the second time that night I found myself smiling in response to his kindness. This time was more significant, though, than his approval of my wine selection.

Booth's POV

The silence which then descended was more relaxed. Friendly. We chatted about Parker's latest misadventures and why Zack and Hodgins so enjoyed attacking rectangular prisms of clay

It was 11:30 when Bones, yawning every fifth word, decided to retire. I asked her where she would like me to bunk for the night and was utterly astonished when she led me to her bedroom.

"Even if you're just in the other room," she explained, "I'll still wake up alone. I don't want to me alone tonight." I wasn't about to refuse. I can control myself.

Bones' bedroom is painted in cool mint green with a dark, almost ever-green bed spread and cream sheets. All the furniture is cherry wood. Tasteful and not overtly ornamented- everything in there had a practical purpose and it was arranged so it was most effecting.

I lay stiffly next to her in my undershirt and boxers. I was afraid of bumping into her, of crowding her and she seemed just as tense. Eventually, though, the alcohol (not that she'd had much, just two glasses over three hours) and the emotional drain combined to drag her into sleep. She slowly softened next to me. Several minutes passed and I had almost fallen asleep myself she I felt her shift and throw an arm across my torso. Her head now lay on my shoulder and upper chest, in the hollow beneath my arm. I could feel the softness of her breasts against my side, and her hair tickled my chin, the smell of her shampoo invaded my nostrils. I relaxed not just because of the lavender mixed with the soap, but because I was again holding Bones, and this time she had been the one to initiate it. Even if it was only in her sleep. I slipped my arms around her frame, gently cradling her, and, feeling complete contentment, I joined her in Dreamland.


	2. Nightmares

Author's Note: This chapter's kinda short, but I try to never contrive length from material that is clearly not desirous to be stretched. I have some of Chapter three done already, and it will be up as soon as it's all ready, which will hopefully be before I go to Grandma's on the 23rd for my b-day. I would just like you to know that I write with pencil and paper and then type it up, which is where I do all my refining…In this case I changed almost the entire chapter, rearranged it on the spot, turned it all into dialogue…so it took awhile to perfect. I like it better this way. Thank you all for your kind support and attention to my first Bones fic. Also, if you like this, take a look at DeathAndTheJabberwocky. I of course am the Jabberwocky, and my friend Death and I get together to write all sorts of fun stuff. We've finally decided to start posting it-so we'll be out here in a few weeks. (Maybe this way, we'll actually finish a story. I think we're working on 2,759,436,524,937. Give or take a few.) Happy Holidays!

Disclaimer: If I owned Bones, Zach wouldn't have cut his hair.

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Brennan's POV

"Temperance!" I jerked awake. Booth's concerned face snapped into view. For a second, I was too shocked to do anything but stare at him, memorizing his face, before I buried my head on his shoulder and cried. Such emotional release in a safe environment is vital for the mind's ability to process and cope with new stressors. And, despite my assertions to the contrary, there is no place I feel safer than wherever Booth is.

In the middle of the night, while my subconscious splays colorful and often incomprehensible images and scenarios across the inside of my eyelids, my fears would arise and wage war against my peace of mind. The tumultuous battle would invariable rouse me from my sleep. Which is how I found myself ensconced in Booth's arms. I scanned the substance of my dreams and noticed that the worst had not presented itself. I then realized that Booth must have woken me before my insecurities could summon such horrific reinforcements.

My own sobs lessened, and I began to be able to decipher Booth's previously unnoticed whisperings.

"Its okay, Bones. Come on, let it out. Let it go, so it can't hurt you anymore. You're safe; I'm right here with you, and, as long as I'm here, I won't let anything hurt you. And I promise, I'm not going to leave you." Booth's voice was soft and his breath warm against my ear. I felt myself relax and my heartbeat slow.

"Thank you." I murmured when I had regained the power of speech.

"I'm happy to help." He told me, his every expression displaying sincerity. He pulled back to search my face. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I felt my lower lip be grasped between my teeth, and I looked down, uncertainly. After an infinitesimal infinity, I nodded. However, I made no move to initiate the conversation. After an expectant pause, Booth began.

"Can you tell me what the dream is about?" He asked soothingly.

"It's not the dream." I said haltingly.

"Than what is it?"

I didn't answer.

"Bones…"

"What?"

"Stop stalling."

"Booth's POV

I had expected at least a token rebuttal to that accusation, but she just seemed flustered and slightly ashamed.

"The dream itself seems irrelevant until the end, but throughout it, there's feeling of…the truth is, I'm scared." I'm sure I looked incredulous, but I was silent, hoping she would continue.

"Booth, I don't really expect you to understand, but I was abandoned at fifteen. I was scared, and I was hurt, and I pushed away Russ, who was the only person who cared for me. The state, in its infinite wisdom, punted me from foster-home to foster-home. At first, I really did try, Booth. I made a _real_ effort to get along with my caretakers, even form an attachment, but I soon realized that an attachment led only to more pain at the inevitable separation.

"So…yes, Booth, I was petrified with fear. Fear…fear that I-had forgotten how to trust. Fear that I would be abandoned again…or worse, that I would abandon someone I loved to face that same pain." She was crying again, tears streaming down her face. I had opened a whole can of worms, and was soaking it all up. I had never had such an honest glimpse into the beautifully intriguing enigma that is Temperance Brennan. I wiped her tears and held her close, reveling in my sudden permission for such conduct while she recomposed herself.

"Obviously," she began in a forcedly light tone, "I can't read people. And, if I can't understand someone and accurately judge their character, how would it be possible for me to learn to love them?"

"Hey, hey." I broke this train of thought with a gentle chide. "If you couldn't love people, you wouldn't have the love of Zach, or Hodgins, or Angela." _Or me_, I silently added. "You have proved to them and to me that you are one of the people most worthy of love, and most loving, though you hardly know it yourself."

Brennan's eyes met mine again, a slight blush just visible in the warm, dim, yellow light from the nightlights she had plugged in case I needed something in the night. A small smile now graced her lips.

"Thank you, Booth." We held eye contact for a minute longer before she yawned and glance at the clock, which read 3:17 am-never a good time to be up. Just looking at the clock made me yawn.

"We should probably go back to sleep, lots of paperwork tomorrow,." I stated wryly.

This time, when we lay down, I pulled her into my arms only mildly self-conscious. Brennan settled herself against me in a most gratifying notion of trust.

"Thank you." She whispered again

"For what?"

"For keeping away the nightmares."

"Um, Bones, I think I was pretty useless at that." I tried to remind her, but she just shook her head.

"Nope, trust me on this one, Booth." And how am I to me reasonably expected to argue with that? I know when to shut up and accept a compliment, however misplaced.


	3. Morning After

Booth POV

The next morning breeped loudly into existence. Brennan reached over and slammed a hand down on the largest button on the alarm clock, abusing it into silence.

"I really hate that thing." She confided in me, stretching against me and yawning.

She brewed coffee while I showered, and I found her in the kitchen savoring her first cup. Wordlessly, she reached into the cabinet behind herself and handed me a mug. As usual, the aromatic caffeine did wonders.

The morning was spent companionably as we readied for the day. Seeing as how we had solved the case the day before, both of us were looking forward to a plethora of forms to be filled out in triplicate. I could, at least, briefly escape to collect the tape footage Angela had restored. I like to think that Bones had seemed more cheerful today than she had in the past few days.

I know there was a glint to her smile when we agreed to have dinner at Wong Fu's. I've never seen that glint before. I definitely want to see it again.

Bones POV

I almost laughed aloud when I heard Angela interrogate Booth that afternoon.

"Weren't you wearing that suit yesterday?" Angela's voice was heavily laden with suspicion.

I had been taking a brief break from paperwork and had, after restocking myself with coffee, gone to see if Angela had finished her sketch of the Civil War soldier we were attempting to identify.

"Um, I don't think so." Booth began. "But I might have worn it recently and forgotten when I got it back from the dry cleaners last night."

Angela looked doubtful. "No, I'm pretty sure it was yesterday…" She glanced up at me.

"Hey, Brennan." She greeted me. Booth turned to me with a look of pleading desperation. I smirked, and of course, Angela noticed.

"What was that?" Now the interrogation was directed at me. Great. Before I could answer, Angela continued. "You know, don't you? You know why Booth is wearing the same clothes that he did yesterday." Now Hodgins poked his head in the door.

"What was that?" He scrutinized Booth. "Hey, yeah, I think you're right, Angela."

"Bren, why is Booth wearing the same clothes?" Angela took control of the conversation once again. Booth was red all over, but, apparently hand been able to regain some mental composure, because he snatched the cd Angela had left on the desk in front of her.

"I just came for this, so it can be added to the case file. I'll see ya'll later when, hopefully, your anti-psychotics have kicked in.

"Booth," I finally participated in the discussion. "Neither Hodgins nor Angela take any psychiatric medications to the best of my knowledge."

"It's an expression, Bones, ok? It means that they're acting crazy." He told me with a pointed look as he left Angela's office. Angela and Hodgins looked at each other and started laughing. I decided that I was not likely to get the information about the Civil War soldier, so I retreated to my paperwork where I was temporarily sage from their questions and teasing.

Booth POV

I had nearly escaped the Jeffersonian when I heard Cam's voice.

"Hey, Booth." She called, and I knew pretending I didn't hear her was out of the question. I turned to face her, but wasn't given a chance to even greet her. "Angel told me that you're wearing the same clothes from yesterday." She stepped closer, almost touching me.

I got the distinct impression she was asserting her right to do this as a warning to any other women who might be a threat to her. She needn't have bothered, there's only one woman I love, and, since I'll never have Bones, Cam was in no danger. She helped to ease the loneliness I felt when Bones was not there slightly-a diversion.

"Wanna tell me why?" She quizzed, bringing my attention to her, and away from the auburn anthropologist upstairs. Cam then looked perplexed.

"Wait, if you were out all night, you'd have stubble…but you definitely shaved this morning." She was now examining me the way Hodgins would peruse I new book on mineralogy.

"That's…uh…because I wasn't out all night." I tried to assert and was embarrassed by the lack of conviction in my voice. I also hoped I didn't look flushed, though my face was warm from remembering using Brennan's razor. No man should have to shave with a pink razor sporting a purple grip.

I think Cam must have noticed my blush, because her eyes narrowed with amused suspicion.

Oh, well.

I excused myself with as much composure as possible and didn't run to my SUV no matter how much I wanted to escape immediately. I was grateful for the fact that my coworkers at the Bureau were too busy to notice my wardrobe.


	4. Crazed Comebacks

Disclaimer: I do not own them, but, if I find them on ebay, I will _so_ outbid you.

Author's Note: I know I haven't updated this in over a month-I can explain...kinda. I was up at my dad's in Virginia, so the first few weeks were spent visiting family and pretending I could stand them. Then I got a laptop for my birthday (grandparents rock) and spent quite a bit of time getting it set up just how I like it. By the time I had free time to myself again, it had been so long since they'd aired a new episode that I had no inspiration, and couldn't seem to slip into character. Well, lucky for me, this latest ep had that scene at the end where Booth is talking about how you can't get emotionally involved when you work in a high-risk situation, and you just _know_ he's talking about Bones and himself, so I was able to finally finish this chapter. Give me some credit-I have bronchitis and I still wrote this for you-so if anything doesn't make any sense, just blame it on the fever of 102.4.

* * *

Bones POV

It was several weeks later that I received a most unpleasant visit.

I was heading to my car and was no more than ten yards from the employee entrance to the Jeffersonian, when I heard someone call my name. Naturally, I turned around. My spine stiffened, and I felt my sympathetic nervous system "jump into hyper-drive," (as I've heard Hodgins say) spewing epinephrine (commonly known as adrenaline) into my bloodstream.

Will was approaching me, a look of desperate hunger on his face. I stood straight and gave no ground.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"I need to talk to you." He almost begged, but I had no sympathy for a fratricidal maniac.

"There's nothing to talk about. Besides, it's unethical for me to speak to you when you're on trial." My voice was harsh and rigid; Booth would be proud.

"No it's not!" Will exclaimed. "You're not a witness for the prosecution, because _that_ would be unethical."

He was right. I'd just finished an argument with Booth over that very subject. I couldn't testify because I'd dated him. That has nothing to do with the incontrovertible proof that Will had murdered his younger brother. In fact, I was of the opinion that the fact that I'd dated him, been attracted to him, would strengthen the fact that I was accusing him of murder, but apparently that doesn't matter. The argument had ended with me escaping the lab to think about how this mistake was still managing to adversely affect my life. Booth had tried to chase after me but had been held back by Angela.

I knew that Booth was just the messenger and that I was taking my frustrations out on him, but I needed to be the one who brought this creep to justice. I also kind of wished Ange had let Booth follow me; I really needed his comfort...and his gun.

"You have to believe me," Will continued, "Only you can help me. You know me, Tempe. I'd never have hurt him if the witch hadn't made me." I glared at him.

"You kill your brother, and _you_ need to be saved?!" I exploded. "I will _never_ help you, and if you ever contact me again, I _will_ make you regret it." I snapped.

And then, Will Hastings pulled a gun on me.

Why is it, the bad guys always have a gun and I don't?

"Don't make me do this," Will pleaded as though I were the one brandishing a firearm.

"FBI! Drop your weapon!" Booth's voice rang out through the parking structure, and relief flooded through me.

Will spun to face this new threat, but his gun still pointed at me.

"You don't understand!" Will screamed; his hand started to jerk with each word, and I felt considerably more threatened, afraid that, whether or not he would mean to, he could pull the trigger with the force of his shaking. "She has to help me!"

On the word "me" a shot echoed through the concrete structure, and Will was knocked to the ground. Booth ran forward, gun still aimed at Will, and kicked the gun which had so recently menaced me away. He then called for a paramedic, while I applied pressure to the painful but not life-threatening shoulder wound.

"I did you a favor." Booth informed Will as the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance. "You've obviously never seen what she can do when she's mad."

Booth's POV-20 minutes earlier

"Look, Angela, Bones has had ample time to leave, by now. I don't know where she's gone, and I wouldn't follow her if I did. I have Parker tonight, and I need to five-year-old proof my apartment. May I please go now?"

Angela regarded me curiously.

"You don't keep the apartment kid-proof? Doesn't that make every time he comes over a hassle?"

"It's really only a matter of locking a few cabinets and plugging in his night-light, but I'd like to have time to make my outfit Parker-proof." I replied. Angela grinned and made shooing motions.

"You may go."

I opened the door to the parking structure and heard Bones' voice.

"You kill your brother and you need to be saved?!" she demanded. I immediately dropped into a crouch, thankful for the SUV parked next to the door which hid me from their view. I peeked around the back of the vehicle to gauge the situation. Hastings has pulled a gun on Brennan. I saw her eyes widen in shock and fear. I drew my own weapon silently as he begs her not to make him do this.

I was cold with fear: the gun is aiming at Bones. I was hot with anger: how dare he threaten my partner? I decided to make my presence known, and I hoped to draw the gun towards me. I would much rather be shot than have Temperance injured. I stepped out from behind the SUV.

"FBI!" I identified myself. "Drop your weapon!" Hastings whirled towards me, but his gun remained trained on Bones.

"You don't understand!" Actually, it was him who didn't understand. He was threatening Bones. Every bone in my body screamed for his death. Now Hastings was brandishing the gun with every nonsensical word he uttered. I now could fire with the justification of protecting a civilian. I knew better than to shoot to kill, though I considered it.

The shot pierced his shoulder and lodged against his scapula: to high to be dangerous, but painful enough to incapacitate him. I made sure he was no longer a threat and called for an ambulance. I wanted to kill him; I wanted to seize Bones and crush her to me; I wanted to assure myself she was okay. But I knew better. Brennan would not appreciate such alpha-male behavior.

And so, I watched her carefully as she applied pressure to Hastings's wound until the paramedics arrived. She was, as always, strong, confident, and assured a very scared Angela that she was fine. I watched her shoo everyone home.

I watched her collapse, sobbing, in the middle of the garage.

I knelt next to her and wrapped my arms around her. She buried her face in my shoulder.

"I was so scared." She whispered.

"I know." I tightened my grip around her. "You're staying with me tonight."

"What?" Bones' voice was confused and shaky.

"I don't want that bastard coming near you again. You're staying with me tonight and until he's behind bars for good."

Bones' POV

There are certain aspects of our legal system which I detest. One is the fact that Zack, who was so recently my grad student, must testify in my stead. The other is that Will Hastings got out on bail, and, until the trial is over and that bastard is in jail, I won't feel safe.

I tell myself not to get scared, get angry. And I am angry. I'm livid. It just so happens that I'm also terrified.

Booth escorted me to my apartment and hovered while I packed. Though I would never tell him, his presence lent a warmth and security to my suddenly frigid and ominous apartment. I crammed a duffel bag with necessary clothes and toiletries.

"What about Parker?" I asked him, trying to relieve the silence so that my heart would stop pounding in my ears.

"I called Rebecca, and we'll pick him up on our way to my apartment. "Don't worry, he'll love you." I doubted that somehow.

Rebecca met us at the door with a smile. She and I had reached an understanding since I had confronted her about telling Booth her reasons for not marrying him. Momentarily, Parker came bounding up, and Booth stooped, his arms outstretched to scoop up his son in a loving embrace.

"Hey, Bub." He greeted, his voice softened in his son's presence. I saw Rebecca's happiness, and realized that I, too, was smiling at the obvious love Booth displayed for his son. I felt privileged to be allowed to witness it, and guilty to intrude upon it due to some madman's delusions.

I carried Parker's bag, and Booth carried Parker, fielding questions the whole time.

"Who's she?" Parker asked.

"She's Dr. Brennan, you met her last Christmas, you remember?"

"Oh, the Bones lady?" Parker's voice was full of child like innocence. The look Booth shot me was abashed and apologetic. I merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why is she coming with us?" the next logical inquiry arose.

"Well, umm…" Booth was obviously uncomfortable with this subject. A delusional murderer is hardly appropriate conversation material for a five-year-old. I smiled at the child, and let Booth off the hook.

"There are bugs in my apartment, and until the exterminator can get rid of them, I'm staying with your dad." Parker's face screwed up.

"What kind of bugs?"

"Big black ones with long antennas." Hey, Hodgins is the bug guy. Besides Parker seemed satisfied. And so, off we went to a late dinner. We knew better than to order, and Sid soon brought out comfort food for Booth and me. Chicken fried steak for Booth; pot roast for me. Parker dined on five-star macaroni and cheese.

My mom was never a cook. We often had grilled cheese for dinner. However, something about the meal, or, maybe, the company, felt like home. I almost felt like I could relax. If it hadn't been for Will I would have relaxed.

Booth's POV

After some time had passed, and my charming (now where did he get that?) son had worked his magic, it seemed that Bones had reverted to her normal self--except that there was this stiffness in her shoulders and a slight hesitation in her speech, as though she were perpetually preoccupied. A few times, I swear I caught her scanning the dinner crowd: looking for a threat. I thought that was what my job was. But when I do it, it's because I was trained to. My chest tightens for the fear that induces this behavior in Bones.

Parker fell asleep within minutes of his 8:30 bedtime. I rejoined Brennan in my living-room. She sat staring at nothing, thinking. A slight shiver ran down her spine. I unlocked my liquor cabinet which housed several unopened bottles and a few rarely opened ones. I poured two squat glasses half full of amber liquid and handed one to Bones. She looked at me questioningly.

"It'll help you relax. It'll help you sleep." I told her. She downed the drink in two gulps. "Whoa, easy there, Bones. I don't think I can handle you drunk." She almost smiled, which was more than I'd really hoped for.

Neither of us drank more than that first glass, and when bedtime came, Brennan said she wanted to sleep on my couch, and I didn't question it. Most likely, she needed some space to try and process this.

After setting up my couch as a bed, I left her for my dark, cold bedroom and pretended that I didn't wish that she was curled up next to me. It was hard to relax, I was afraid that I would wake up and she'd be gone, that Hastings had shot her, and I had broken down, that her safety was a dream that would be shattered if I allowed myself to sleep.

It was nearly midnight when I heard my bedroom door ease open. I raised my arm from where I had thrown it over my face in a futile attempt at sleep to see an incredible, breathtaking sight. All right, so it was just Temperance in her pajamas, but she looked so soft and homey and (dare I say it) defenseless that my heart melted and my breath caught.

"Bones? Are you okay?" My voice was soft, but not a whisper. The tone was raspy from hours of disuse. She nodded and my chest relaxed, which is when I realized that I had been tense with worry for her well-being.

"Could I-" She stopped, I assumed she was embarrassed. I remained silent, encouraging her to continue at her own pace. "Could I sleep in here?" She didn't meet my gaze.

"Of course." I tried to hide my own jubilation that I would no longer be alone this night, that I would have proof of her safety in my arms until morning. I scooted to the far side of the bed, and held up the blankets, inviting her to join me. The bed dipped slightly when Brennan climbed into it, and she snuggled down in the exact spot I had just warmed. I think I heard a small sigh. I hope it was of contentment.

We both lay on our sides, facing each other. I pulled the blankets securely around us both, allowing myself to caress the skin of her arms. She grabbed my hand and pulled my closer so that I my arm easily encased her. I smiled.

"I heard your neighbors walking past…I kept thinking that it was Will, coming back to try to convince me again." She whispered, her breath tickled the hairs along my neck.

"Don't worry, you're safe here." I assured her, slightly tightening my hold on her.

"I know." She relaxed in my arms, and we were both asleep within minutes.


End file.
